What the hell is even happening?!
Gu Qinghan felt a sharp headache pulse through his skull.
Deception, kidnapping, a string of forced acts—not only had they failed to coerce her, but they’d deepened Liana’s hypnotic state.
This went far beyond what “perverted” could excuse.
Were you seriously ill?!
Terminally so?!
Gu Qinghan sucked in a sharp breath, a dull ache throbbing in his teeth.
He’d considered this possibility—but never expected it to arrive so soon.
In the dimness, the girl’s slender frame trembled slightly, her expression twisted.
She seemed to wrestle with something—lips twitching upward uncontrollably, yet fighting to suppress the storm within.
“Hmph. Mr. Hohenheim,” Liana gritted her pearly teeth, voice steady, “do you truly believe such wicked methods would make me submit?”
“If you think strange props alone will loosen my tongue… you sorely underestimate me.”
A cold laugh escaped her. A faint glimmer flickered in her eyes as her gaze swept over the props piled on the table.
*Listen to that—such defiant words.*
Yet the subtle, secret curve of her lips and the raw longing in her eyes stripped all conviction away.
Gu Qinghan sighed softly, forcing his expression to cool.
*Time to adjust the plan.*
Ten minutes later.
All props had been removed from Liana—except the padded handcuffs. Everything else lay discarded nearby, pristine.
Her breathing turned ragged. A flush crept across her milk-pale skin. A flicker of anxiety flashed as she glanced at Gu Qinghan.
She’d imagined kidnapping before.
But this rough treatment… no, not *a little*—*deeply* addictive.
Her body’s stress response flared hotter. Breath hitched. Skin burned.
*How many days?*
Ever since Mr. Hohenheim used ** on her, sleepless nights and endless torment had haunted her.
*Don’t cross the red line. Don’t cross the red line. Don’t cross the red line…*
On those restless nights, a voice relentlessly questioned her.
Today, when Gu Qinghan covered her mouth, that faint red line inside her *ripped*.
*He’s kidnapping me.*
*He prepared all those twisted props…*
“Hah… hiss… hah… hiss…”
Sweat glistened on her trembling form. Her flushed skin betrayed rising sensitivity.
Yet she glared fiercely at Gu Qinghan, teeth clenched.
“Mr. Hohenheim… I never imagined you were *this* kind of person.”
Each word dripped with strained breath. “I will *never* bow. Bring on your worst!”
Gu Qinghan observed her peculiar state, sighed lightly, and spoke with calm composure:
“Miss Liana, this was never my intent. But your body shows clear abnormalities—you feel them too.”
A faint, unruffled smile touched his lips. “Next, I will inflict punishments of unbearable agony. I won’t release you until you answer.”
He bowed slightly, tone measured.
“Unbearable agony?”
Liana froze. A flicker lit her eyes. Her body shuddered.
“I’ll see just how far your perversion goes, Mr. Hohenheim!”
“The props I bought aren’t meant to gather dust—watch them rust!”
Gu Qinghan smiled faintly at her stubborn pride. “You’re right.”
“But rusting… isn’t that rather poetic?”
Liana’s racing heart stuttered to a halt.
She blinked, confused.
In the shadows, his handsome face wore a faintly sinister edge.
“Miss Liana, I know what you crave.”
His gaze skimmed her form. Voice dropped low.
“You want to be scolded.”
“But I will *not* give you what you want.”
“This plan exists to free you from your obsession with punishment.”
He paused. A glint flashed deep in his eyes.
“I’ve waited a long time for you to reach this state.”
Moonlight traced their profiles.
Liana stood frozen, lost in his ambiguous smile.
Gu Qinghan strolled to the alchemy workbench, lifting each tantalizing prop with deliberate grace:
Whip. Candles. Feather. Ropes. Gag ball…
“These were all chosen with care.”
His gaze skimmed them like a dragonfly brushing water.
Liana watched, transfixed.
“But Miss Liana—you misunderstood.”
“I never said these would be used *on you*.”
He turned, smile sweet, eyes devilish.
Liana’s hesitation shattered into wide-eyed horror.
“These stay right here—on the workbench. Far beyond your reach.”
“Until you answer my questions? Not a single prop touches you.”
“Craving punishment? Impossible.”
“I won’t punish you. I’ll place them *just* within sight… letting you stare, helpless.”
“Caring for neighbors is my code. How could I be so cruel?”
“May you regain freedom soon.”
“When you cooperate, I’ll gift them to you—as thanks.”
Hat removed, he bowed elegantly toward her and exited.
Silence swallowed the room.
Liana stood utterly bewildered, rooted in place.
*He’s… gone?*
*Wait.*
*Mr. Hohenheim?*
Her breath hitched. Eyes widened.
*You’re just… leaving?*
*No interrogation?*
She watched him vanish, a choked sound trapped in her throat.
Chains pinned her wrists to the wall.
Meters away, the props glinted coldly in moonlight.
*Right there.*
*Untouchable.*
*WHERE’S THE INTERROGATION?!*
*If you won’t punish me… I’ll never speak!*
“I… will… never… submit…”
Voice hoarse, eyes glistening, body trembling.
Hair spilled messily over flushed cheeks. Breath came fast.
For her, the six-day ordeal had only just begun.
Sometimes, *not* scolding… is the cruelest scolding of all.
